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They taught her this hope,

weaving it into her very beginnings,

stitched and sewn through the true stories of those surrounding and before.

This hope,

now older,

carried in daylight,

sheltered between ever expanding ribs,

settles easily among the day’s distractions.

This hope,

now colder,

held at midnight,

clutched between empty sheets and breaking heartbeats,

taunts,

crushes the resilience of that daylit cage…

tearing at the truth of her beginnings.


Chelsey Whitlow 

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